HUNGER.

Chapter 25

It was the tapping at the window that woke her, groggy, with a distinct chill that signalled Tom's absence beside her.

The dormitory was silent, with only faint rays of clouded sun dappling the carpet. Hannah turned, instinctively reaching for him, though she knew he'd already gone. His side of their bed had been made, pristine, in typical Tom fashion.

She wasn't surprised. The intricacies of heavy, emotional moments had never been a strength of theirs- a goodbye laden with sadness would certainly do them both more harm than good. But still, Hannah felt a nagging annoyance at the helplessness of it all- he hadn't even told her where he was going, and his intentional vagueness was infuriating. He was hiding something, she knew that much.

Secrets, even now.

Reluctantly slipping from the bed, she turned towards the source of the noise- a tawny owl, pecking frustratedly at the glass. It was a handsome thing, not one from the owlery, holding a rolled up paper in one claw. Hannah unlatched the window, watching with mounting dread as it shuffled inside, flapping its wings with an air of distaste.

"Is that for me?"

Hannah tentatively reached for the paper. The owl huffed. She'd never liked those damned birds.

It was a newspaper. The Prophet, splattered by rain and mud, but the opening headline still staring her in the face as she read it, her mouth open.

A wave of dread crashed through her, settling like iron in her stomach. The owl shifted, impatient for payment, but Hannah could only read and re-read the hurried loops of Tom's handwriting at the bottom of the paper. She'd seen his writing countless times in her journal, a tidiness to it that bordered on calligraphy, but this looked rushed- a haste to the way his quill had touched the parchment.

"What have you done?" She whispered aloud, her fingers gripping the Prophet so hard that her knuckles whitened. "What in Merlin's name have you done?"

He was lying. A part of her knew it was too easy that night, the way Tom had brushed off her concerns about closing the chamber for good- Tom had always been just as stubborn as she was, and with how quickly he'd agreed to stop, it was only ever to placate her. He'd told her exactly what she'd wanted to hear, with every intention of biding his time and doing it anyway.

I should have fucking known.

Hannah hurled the paper back at the owl, ignoring the screech of protest, and fled to the door. With only a silk nightdress on, the chill of the early morning was brutal, but she could barely feel it, her heart pounding painfully in her chest as she ran through the familiar corridors. Students had started to emerge from their common rooms, meandering sleepily down to the hall for breakfast, but she barely registered their presence, knocking shoulders and fighting her way towards the second floor bathroom.

She knew Tom would be there. In that moment, her fury had evaporated as soon as it had come, replaced with a desperate sense of fear, and a sickly panic that made her head spin.

He could be dead by now, down there alone, or dying without me beside him.

The thought of Tom hurt, or worse, made Hannah's eyes smart with white hot tears. He probably thought this was some sort of penance, a punishment for all his wrongdoings, a suicide mission that would earn him some kind of redemption. But there was nothing Tom could do that Hannah wouldn't forgive him for- it was stupid, blind, stupid fucking love, but she couldn't live without it. Couldn't live without him.

Careening into the bathroom, Hannah didn't even look to see if the stalls were empty, hurling herself down the hidden passageway with as much energy as she could muster. Her feet hit the wet stone floor with such force it dropped her to her knees, fumbling forwards as her eyes struggled to pierce the darkness.

"Tom?"

Using her fingertips to guide her towards the largest hall of the chamber, Hannah gulped down a shaky breath as the gloom around her began to fade with the telltale flickering of candlelight up ahead.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me-" a voice muttered in the distance, a familiar one, but not Tom's.

Nott's body collided with hers, his hands pinning her arms flush against her sides as he pulled her closer to the light. His face looked gaunt, flushed and pale all at the same time, his once comforting eyes filled with urgency. "You need to leave, right now."

He began turning her back towards the entrance, pushing her along with as much force as he dared, but Hannah dug in her heels and shoved him hard in the chest. Nott stumbled, and that was all she needed to dart past him, shaking him off as he reached for her.

"I need to see him," Hannah hissed, "he'll kill himself trying to stop this-"

"Hannah, no, fucking hell-"

Nott's foot tripped her, and she crashed to the ground, feeling him fall against her back, holding her there. She fought, but it was no good, his weight forced her down.

"Please,"

"You need to go," Nott repeated, "he can't be disturbed, it could ruin the whole thing-"

"He could die-"

The Slytherin boy shifted his weight, straddling her as if she'd bolt at any moment. "He knows the risks," he said calmly, though his voice cracked with a hint of uncertainty. "And at this point I'm fully convinced that nothing can kill Tom Riddle."

Hannah gave a weak half-sob. Tom was mere feet away, past the next wall, but she'd never felt further away from him than now.

"Can I see him? He won't even know I'm there." Dropping all pretences of dignity, she noted faintly that even a year ago, she would have hated the pleading tone of her voice. She was thankful for it now- Nott was still weak to her, still vulnerable. Easily manipulated.

He sighed, his fingers gripping her wrists like a vice. "I swear to Merlin, if you make one sound-"

"I won't."

Carefully, Nott eased her forwards, the stone floor scraping their skin as they inched towards the light.

She could see him, then. A lonely figure in the centre of the chamber, one hand outstretched, shaking on his feet with exhaustion. He was mumbling something, a spell she'd never heard before, utterly focused on something ahead of him.

She followed his gaze to the basilisk, those yellow eyes fixed on Tom, swaying gently as it listened. They were so close, Hannah could see the forked tongue flicker, inches from Tom's face.

"See," Nott whispered from behind her. "Break his focus and the spell stops, it'll kill him, and us too."

"How long until the spell works?"

He swallowed, his grip tightening on her. "As long as it takes."